driving, damsels, dogs

Lots of driving today.  I drove from Alexandria to Bethesda to Tysons and back, a mini tour around the metro area.  I met with a couple different people, brainstorming around writing and business development.  I got lots of great ideas, lots of great encouragement and lots of great support, but precious little of what I’m really looking for.  What I desperately want is for someone to do it for me!  Somebody else write the pitches, surf the sites, make the contacts, join the associations.  Somebody else do the networking, make the calls, do the follow up.  Somebody, anybody, but please not me!

It might be that I’m just fundamentally lazy.  I really want someone to do all the work and tell me where to go to pick up the accolades.  It’s a deeply rooted fantasy – my therapist calls it my “damsel in distress” routine.  I secretly hope that someone’s gonna come along and rescue me, do all the work and shower me with cash and prizes.  Sadly similar to that stereotypical girlhood dream that my REAL parents are royalty and are just minutes from finding me and whisking me away to my rightful palace.  Even as I write this and logically know how silly it is, I’m still actively hoping someone will read this, see me for the treasure I am, and swoop in to save me.   This dysfunctional default probably even played a role in my choice of husband:  he was tall, dark, handsome, and reminded me of my Dad, for whom I’m still waiting to show up and adore me.  The marriage, as I’ve mentioned, didn’t work out.

Back in my regular life, it was a good day.  I did indeed meet with wonderful people who were very supportive and had great ideas.  I had a dreadful lunch at Busara in Tyson’s – I’m on the verge of swearing off Pad Thai altogether.  It’s been a favorite for years, but this makes about the seventh piss poor plate in as many months, at as many restaurants, so maybe that’s the end of that. 

Dinner was leftover steamed dumplings and more broccoli, and the second third of that pint of Haagen Dazs Caramel Cone.  I’ve decided it’s got too much cone; the creamy/crunchy ratio is off.  I’m running out of HD flavors to try, which is a cryin’ shame, ’cause I’ve raised my standards to the quality and richness of their ingredients and can’t imagine dummying down to Ben and Jerry’s.  And yes, it is critically important that I have a gourmet pint to align myself with.

I watched “What Not To Wear”, in a passive attempt to get more info about what to wear.  I’d just like to be prettier, ya know?  Couldn’t really focus on the show, between eating the ice cream, trying to read the Weekend section and listening to the dogs bark.  The damn dogs.  I always know the minute my landlords leave the house:  it’s the minute the dogs start barking.  They will bark nonstop until the guys come home.  Praise Allah the guys have dogs, so they always come home.  It’s a weird Catch-22 that way.  Meanwhile, the dogs continue to bark.  In the interest of trying to turn this incredible negative into a positive, I’ve adopted a mantra that I chant every time I hear or even see a dog:  “I consistently have plenty of money.  Money comes to me easily”.  In this way I’m taking something maddening (dogs barking incessantly) and using it to counteract a core fear (financial insecurity).  To this end I actually smile when I see dogs on the street, especially if it’s a dog walker with multiple dogs, ’cause then I get to do my positive self talk manifestation over and over.  All this being said, I’m still flippin’ pissed that damn dog has been barking for the last three hours. When the hell are those guys coming home?

Tags: barking, damsel, dogs, driving, ice cream, manifestation, rescue